


Fool Me Thrice

by FullOfBoredom



Series: Crossmare [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crossmare - Freeform, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:47:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28948401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FullOfBoredom/pseuds/FullOfBoredom
Summary: “I’m sorry. I know I messed up before and I don’t really have the right to ask for this, but could you trust me one more time?” Cross implored him with just his voice. “Be mine for one more evening.” Night’s face betrayed the flash of a grimace, remembering the terror with an all too fresh recap of the previous night. Cross certainly didn’t have the right to ask for another chance after throwing it in his face so callously before. However, he had forgiven that, almost immediately, because Cross couldn’t have known what his actions would do, not understanding the weight of the trust he’d been handed until it dropped out of his hands. Even if it was freshly broken, Night took a deep breath.“ONE more time.” Nightmare fought the instant panic at putting himself at risk again. Cross had already betrayed him twice, and putting faith in that fed into the anxious voices in his head. The soft kiss leached out some of the tension.“Thank you.”
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Crossmare [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135421
Comments: 6
Kudos: 68





	Fool Me Thrice

“This is stupid Dream.” Nightmare leaned against the wall of this universe’s Muffet’s. Across from him, his brother Dream smiled so wide it was nauseating. 

Nightmare had forgone his corruption for this little event at his brother’s request. He’d borrowed clothes from Dream, losing his normal deep purples for the obnoxiously bright yellows to hide his true identity, all for a single purpose that he wasn’t sure was good enough. He recalled his earlier conversations with Dream while taking steadying breaths. 

“You say that, but you did it anyway.” Dream waggled his eyebrows. “I’m telling you, stop overthinking!” He flicked Nightmare’s forehead with his tongue out.

“He’s going to be upset we deceived him.” His eyes looked over the masses for the skeleton in question. His unusual height and bright white jacket made him stand out even amongst the diverse crowd. His hands wrung themselves with the unnatural worry that his normal corruption would have shaken off in a heartbeat. Being without it felt like being exposed, its dense protection a reminder of what had changed.

“He’ll get over it. Don’t tell me you wanna back out…” Dream teased. He laughed at Night’s instant glare. “I promise! It’s gunna be great!” His brother took his hand before he could complain and dragged him into the fray.

The room was loud, clusters smattered across the open floor, people talking to friends and potential dates, bodies pushed together but not writhing. The atmosphere fit a club better than this well lit bar, the only line drawn by the lack of techno dance music and colored lighting. Dream pulled him along towards the group he’d been eyeing before. Blue and Ink were rubbing shoulders with Sans, Outer, and Killer, all none the wiser about the incoming guest.

“Hey Dream! Oh, who’s that?!” Blue waved before smiling wide at Nightmare. “My name’s Blue, what’s yours?!”

“Crescent. It’s nice to meet you.” His eyes flickered across the faces in the circle, trying not to stop on one face in particular. Nightmare’s body shivered. God, this form was so vulnerable, his usual calm deserting him. He’d forgotten how much he hated it. He’d missed half of Blue’s introductions in his anxiety.

“-and Killer! Oh, and Cross!” Blue pointed at each in turn, most giving a basic wave in return. Cross hadn’t looked his way until Blue had said his name.

Cross, the cause of this whole debacle. After the truce, his castle became a hub for many of the Stars, and with that, his brother followed, and where his brother goes, so too goes Cross. 

He wouldn’t call their relationship…friendly. In fact, he’d only go as far as cordial. Nightmare refused to speak on friendly terms with a remorseless betrayer. His pride wouldn’t allow it, even if they WERE on the same side again. Cross made no motion to apologize either, which only added to his ire. He stuck to Dream’s side and kept at attention whenever he was in the same room as Nightmare, ready to protect Dream from that big bad brother of his.

None of this would bother him if it weren’t for the BEFORE. When Cross answered to him, he’d grown fond of Cross. Nightmare would find himself thinking of the guard often, making concessions with his comfort in mind, more so than the others. Nightmare called him to his office just to tease him sometimes. A blushing Cross made his day, though he did keep it from escalating to tears. He hadn’t realized what it meant until Cross had walked away. The void left in his wake…

Well, he’d sat on those feelings until his brother had gotten him alone.

“Hey, I noticed you and Cross are.. _.tense_. Is it something I can help with? I know I’m at fault here.” Dream had smiled embarrassedly. Nightmare snapped his tentacles in distaste.

“He betrayed me, Dream. I saved him from that godforsaken empty dust-hole he calls home, and he left the instant he found something else.” He’d glared at his black slippers. “My company is clearly subpar and I’m simply not inflicting my presence on him unnecessarily. Heaven forbid he approach me.” His brother’s mouth had clicked shut, thinking better of saying whatever thought he had. “And don’t you fucking dare tell him to talk to me Dream, I will revoke the fucking truce. He doesn’t get the easy way out of someone ordering him around like he wants.” Nightmare’s tentacles had lashed around, angry and agitated, knocking trinkets off his desk. Dream had merely tilted his head, confused.

“I never took him as a follower.” He’d chuckled, waving a dismissive hand in front of his face. “He’ll follow orders at the end of the day, but he’s always been very forward with me.”

“Forward with you?” Nightmare echoed. Dream intertwined his fingers to lean on his hands.

“He’s very stubborn and outspoken, and he won’t bend when he thinks he’s right. Cross’s only follower tendency is to follow whatever his “commander” orders to the best of his ability.” Dream took in the look on Nightmare’s face. “What do you think then?”

“He never so much as _disagreed_ with me.” He pointed at Dream’s face before he had even opened his mouth. “And don’t give me the fearsome leader talk. He’d seen Horror question me before, and I’m Horror’s fucking food source.” Dream just let him growl and complain, deflating as the anger he’d been holding too tightly slid from his fingers. “Cross didn’t say he’d hated a single second of living here until I came back to his empty fucking room. That doesn’t strike me as some outspoken beacon of individuality. It strikes me as a spineless coward!”

He’d fallen back in his chair, letting his mood level out before acknowledging Dream again. Dream frowned, Nightmare feeling the guilt radiating outward.

“I didn’t realize he meant so much to you.”

It was a slap to the face.

He’d been crushing on Cross. Pining for him from afar but not recognizing the symptoms. Being crushed by his betrayal suddenly snapped into crystal clear focus. 

Which dragged them to now. Dream had suggested meeting the Cross he knew, the one he never was around Nightmare, for a night to see if it helped. If nothing else, he’d get a night of relative peace in Cross’s company. He didn’t tell Dream how much that thought alone swayed him. Now that he understood his affliction, it wove itself into every thought, craving Cross’s company again. 

And although Cross didn’t like being deceived, neither had Nightmare, so he supposed they were even.

“Hi.” Nightmare looked away before he spaced out like a weirdo. Dream took the cue.

“Guys! Let’s move to a table, I’m starving.”

“Me too!”

“Grub sounds good.” And off the party went. Nightmare had to give credit to his brother, he could be very sneaky when needed. Probably the whole “positive guardian would never do something dubious” thought. Nightmare could remember the villagers blaming him for all of Dream’s pranks, who’d stopped when he found out, but Night hadn’t forgotten the bias and blame. He shook it off as he made his way to the group.

Dream had seated himself at the end of the table, the only options left being besides him and across. Dream pulled Ink into the chair beside him, gesturing to Cross and ‘Crescent’ to sit across.

Cross held out a hand, gesturing to the seat closest Dream.

“I know you only know Dream. It’s hard being the odd person out.” Cross gave him a small smile, pulling out the chair for Nightmare and seating himself beside ‘Crescent.’ “How did you meet Dream?”

“I met him a while ago, but I was hesitant to leave my AU until now. He spoke so highly of his friends that I wanted to meet them.” A close truth, the only friend he’d wanted to meet was Cross, and he had known Dream a long time. “He’s quite engaging. How did you meet him?”

“He found me. He could tell I was unhappy, confused. I’d been in a really bad place for a long time. You know how he is. You get swept up in his aura, you know?” Cross grinned widely, eyes closed. Nightmare’s face went deep purple. Cross was so adorable. Positivity looked good on him, the world no longer hoisted on his shoulders off duty. He stared for entirely too long because Cross caught him. Nightmare whipped his face away.

“Sorry…”This body was so transparent. He never would have been caught unawares in his true form.

“No, it’s fine. It was cute.” Cross smiled, genuine and sweet, and Nightmare’s soul pounded directly up against his ribs. Oh no.

Dream ended up being right. Cross and Nightmare had chatted back and forth for most of the meal, the taller making a few subtle comments snuck between normal topics. He’d never known Cross to be so bold in this manner. Nightmare doing any type of flirting (in jest at the time) had flustered Cross so badly, he couldn’t talk for the entire day afterwards.

Pairs pulled away from the table, as the food got cleared away, to dance. Nightmare blushed fiercely when Cross’s eyes met his, tempting him in with just a look.

“Dance with me?” He had asked, but he’d taken Nightmare by the hand and led him to the dance floor before he could answer. So bold, so confident. Nightmare didn’t resist, letting his arms rest against Cross’s chest as they swayed along. Not a shred of negativity from him, nothing but calm contentment. Nightmare almost didn’t believe it was him.

His Cross had reeked of negativity in every pore, almost any phrase likely to send him in either deep self-hatred, righteous fury, or extreme disgust. The question of whether that was due to Night’s aura or the lack of support they all had couldn’t be answered.

He felt the Cross’s hands slowly slide down, settling in the small of his back, fingers softly stroking the base of his spine. He felt Cross’s breath along the side of his face.

“I don’t know what it is, but I just feel so comfortable with you.” Nightmare felt so small in his arms, looking up into those mismatched eyes with awe while Cross’s long arms held him close. ”If you’d like me to stop, just tell me. But if you don’t…”

Nightmare felt the hand on his cheek. He should stop this. Cross didn’t know who he was.

The only thing he did was close his eyes.

The click of Cross’s teeth on his sparked up his magic. Cross thankfully didn’t try to deepen it, they were in public and Nightmare wouldn’t think to stop him, but he did take his hands to lead him elsewhere. Nightmare did a quick sweep of the room as they walked away. Dream’s bright gold face wasn’t paying any attention to the two of them, Nightmare being whisked away into the night like a secret.

“Tell me where you want to go.” They got outside, ending up in the alley besides Muffet’s before Cross went for another kiss.

Nightmare didn’t fight it. Cross’s tongue dove in and took what it wanted. It tasted every tooth, stroking along Night’s own purple tongue playfully before pulling back, a strand of purple saliva following. Nightmare whined. Cross went for another round, but Night grabbed his shoulders.

“Cross, Cross, wait.” Nightmare panted, Cross’s hands already tracing his ribs. “I can’t do this.”

“It sounds like you want to.” To his credit, he did stop pushing further, waiting for whatever ‘Crescent’ had to say, for him to want it too. Nightmare already wanted it; he just didn’t want to lie to Cross anymore. Cross hated lies and he wasn’t trying to be the bad guy, not in this matter that would never work built on mistruths and deception.

“I do, but not in this circumstance.” He didn’t give Cross time to ask the second question. “My name isn’t Crescent. It’s me, Nightmare.” The hands rubbing his ribcage froze.

“What?” Cross stared him in the eyes, his own widening with growing terror Nightmare could taste. “That’s…not possible. You couldn’t be him.”

“I am. I cannot continue under false pretenses.” Nightmare’s hands in Cross’s jacket trembled. “I borrowed Dream’s clothes and-”

“You can’t be Nightmare. Nightmare doesn’t take orders, he gives them. He embarrasses people and makes them feel bad for the fun of it, just to please himself and no one else. He doesn’t care about…me.” Cross’s eyes hardened, hands dropping off with a look of disgust. “What? Need to embarrass me one more time for the memories? Once more for the road?” He took an exaggerated step back out of Night’s space.

“No. I…”The words would catch in his corrupted throat, but they had no such barrier now. “I missed you.”

“Yeah right. You didn’t even like me.” Cross growled at him, baring his teeth. “You singled me out, made an example out of me, constantly pulling me aside to talk down to me. I know it wasn’t happening to the others, so I know you hated me specifically!” His hand grabbed Nightmare by the neck, holding him up and making Nightmare’s vision blur.

“Is that what it looked like?” Nightmare rasped. He didn’t try to pry the hand away, just held on to keep himself conscious.

“Not looked like, WAS.” Cross’s arm had started to shake. Nightmare hadn’t lifted a finger in defense. He dropped Night with a wary look. “What are you playing at?”

“You know, contrary to popular myth, I am capable of doing things that aren’t inherently negative.” Nightmare coughed roughly, rubbing at his neck with watering eyes. Damn the disguise, he could almost feel the corruption rising in reflex to protect him. “Dream seemed to think you had a backbone, so he set this up so I could see who you _really_ are.” He hadn’t straightened out of the crumpled heap he was on the asphalt. His breath still came in bursts, body overwhelmed and bringing his watering eyes to tears without his consent. “I suppose you only have a spine when it comes to conquests then. Sorry I didn’t send you out on a midnight rendezvous.” The tone, level and venomous, scratched at Cross’s ears, Cross growling with a scandalized look in his eyes.

“No backbone?! What, did you expect me to just question you, fight you? You who pulled me out of my ruined home to serve you, who had the ability to send me straight back to that shitty neverending nightmare for speaking out of turn?!” He crossed his arms to keep them from starting a fight. “You actively could wipe half of the multiverse away if you wanted, and you expected me to fight you?!”

“YES!” Night growled from the ground, trying to hold the corruption in check while his stress ratcheted up through the roof. “The rest of them talked out of turn, disobeyed, though not betrayed, but I never sent anyone back to their wasteland of a timeline. You never put a toe out of line, yet you were terrified? Of what?”

“You didn’t treat me like the others!” Cross didn’t break eye contact. “It was always ‘Cross, come speak to me after this,’ ‘Cross, perhaps you’d be better suited to defense.’ You singled me out all the time and the others knew it!”

“I just admitted to you that I missed you, you dense fucking asshole.” Dream’s clothes sagged under the corruption, his body darkening in a fit of rage. His tentacles came into existence mid sentence, Nightmare no longer caring what Cross had to say. “I singled you out but did I torture you? No, I did nothing but rile you up and give you _less_ to do, and yet guess who betrayed whom.” 

The rebuttal caught in his throat. Cross had been avoiding this conversation for months now.

“You’re telling me that you missed me, that you want to be around the ‘real me.’” Cross took a dangerous step closer to Nightmare. He didn’t so much as flinch at the tentacles hovering around him, entering his space like a battlefield. “If that’s true, take us back to my old room. Let’s _talk_.”

Nightmare wouldn’t cower under those eyes, penetrating and outraged, but he did as Cross asked, the portal whirling to life just behind him. He backed up into it with Cross stalking forward.

Once the portal sealed itself, cut off and back in his own personal hell, Cross kept moving into Nightmare’s space until they were chest to chest.

“Go ahead, I’m back, just for you.” Cross glared down at Nightmare, and he glared back, but he couldn’t stop his hands from resting on the white jacket. Something about the atmosphere shifted, Night could feel the storm clouds on the horizon but couldn’t place their direction. 

“This jacket looks stupid. How many straps does a jacket need?” He picked at the zipper. 

“Better than the damn goopy mess on your clothes. Do you even wash them?” Cross hadn’t moved. Nightmare huffed indignantly.

“Of course I fucking wash them. Who the fuck do you take me for? It’s not like I wear the same jacket every day. And these were Dream’s clothes.”

“And now they’re ruined. They don’t even look good on you.” Cross hooked his finger into the front of the shirt, looser on him than Dream. Nightmare scoffed.

“Well, I’m sure these are nicer than Dream’s.” He summoned his ecto, chest filling out the loose fitting thing, front zipper popping open from the strain. Nightmare hoped the cyan on his cheeks didn’t shine through. “Then again, you can’t appreciate anything I do for you.” He hadn’t moved back, suddenly in much more contact with Cross. He felt Cross’s finger freeze, still hooked in his shirt but undoubtedly touching his chest.

“You don’t do things for me. You do them for you.” With a tug, the front zipper slid down until Nightmare’s breasts were exposed. Cross cupped the right one. “That’s just the kind of selfish asshole you are.” His thumb swiped over the nipple, face impassive at Night’s blush.

“If it does nothing for you then stop touching.”

“Fuck you.” Cross grabbed both, massaging the soft ectoflesh until Night could barely keep a straight face. With each swipe over Nightmare’s nipples, they got perkier, making it easier and easier to pinch and tease. When he tweaked both at the same time, Nightmare bit back a moan.

“C-cross.” He’d sounded so needy. Cross still looked on without any facial signs of caring. He leaned down to speak in Night’s ear.

“If you meant what you said, prove it.” The thought made Night shiver, but proving it was easy. He need only gain the courage to say it, to speak the phrase into existence, yet it was harder than everything else. “Because I have a hard time believing you aren’t just using me for your own gain somehow.” Night closed his eye.

“I’m yours.” 

“The hell does that mean?” Cross managed to look away from the cyan boobs with a lot of effort. Night filed away the preference before taking a deep breath, bracing his body for the words.

“I am yours for the evening. Whatever you want, I will do.” Cross raised a brow.

“And the catch?” Night hunched his shoulders with no small amount of anxiety.

“When this is over, you tell your precious Dream what you chose to do with me.” Demanding an apology felt too small, and seeking retribution for the betrayal would have Cross walk away. He already thought Night was the worst person he knew. Even if the punishment would be light considering the offense, he’d never agree, and Night needed him to agree. The smouldering embers in his soul had ignited with Cross’s hands working his ecto. He was grateful for Cross’s inability to read him.

“Hmmmmm…” Cross finally let his aching breasts go, circling him with a predatory stare. “That still leaves a lot of leeway.” 

“I am aware.” Night didn’t bend. He hoped that Cross couldn’t read the stressed stance as easily as Dream had, reading him like a book, as if those days beneath the tree weren’t centuries before. When Cross stopped, Night braced.

“You can’t lie to me the rest of the evening. Do you understand?”

“Yes Cross.” Playing twenty questions still left a lot to be afraid of. He also didn’t like the suspicious but amused look on Cross’s face.

“Call me sir.”

“Yes sir.” His corruption rippled, but he choked on his pride for now. His idiot soul had gotten him into this mess and would now bear the suffering to relieve him of it; whether this ended in Cross’s forgiveness or Nightmare swearing off talking to Cross forever was still up for debate.

“How do you feel about Dream?” Was he trying to ferret out betrayal plays with this little game? Maybe he’d given him too much credit.

“He’s my brother. He is the other half to me, and though we disagree on many fronts, I do not wish ill on him anymore. Sir.” Cross just kept staring at him.

“Can’t prove that. Let’s see…Why did you call me into your office to make fun of me so much?” Nightmare kept his hands (and tentacles) docile even if it made his sludge crawl, reflecting on those meetings.

“To make you blush. I found it endearing sir.” That took Cross off his game. He flushed purple, Nightmare turning cyan and glancing away, but he pushed ahead.

“That sounds a little believable.” Cross tapped his foot, pacing in a tight circle in front of his old boss. He tossed out a question without looking up. “What are you afraid of?”

“Being taken advantage of by others.” The truth jumped out before he could think over a substitute. Flashes of villager mobs jumped to his mind unheeded. They had been so many, and he’d been so weak when he was alone. Dream had readily accepted the pitiful excuses he’d given, eager to see past their discontent for something smaller than it was, but he’d been directed away from the darkness in people’s hearts. Nightmare couldn’t see anything else.

Cross pressed up against his back, hand circling to his front to twist Night’s nipples, his small hostage moaning involuntarily in his grasp.

“If you wanted pity, you picked a dumb way to get it.” Cross pulled them back until he sat on the bed, Night pulled into his lap, tentacles wrapping around themselves and Cross haphazard. “I’ll think of other questions before long.” His fangs caught on the vertebrae.

Nightmare squealed at the bite that followed, not comforted even by the deep anger Cross wafted at this distance. He wailed when the bite devolved into sucking on the punctured bone.

“I’m gunna let you go, but only for you to take off your clothes. Stand and do so.”

“Yes sir.” Night swayed when he stood up, dropping the remains of the shirt and the pants without complaint. He’d yet to form anything specific on his pelvis, Cross’s sudden exploratory fingers snapping an ectopussy into place. They switched to exploring the new territory instantly.

“I’m sure you like it rough. You feel wet enough here to me.” His fingers traced the folds, only feeling for the minimum. Wasting time on foreplay for Nightmare felt like one kindness too many it seemed. The words hit Night’s ears, suddenly far away.

Nightmare let himself be manhandled to the bed. His internal panic reached fever pitch, his tentacles trying to curl up around him, a weak facsimile of a hug at the torment to come. His peripherals filled with the sick faces of the villagers, smiling too widely at his suffering. Too much touching, too fast, not enough preparation, and he couldn’t say anything, scream caught in his throat because too loud would alert Dream and then he’d see him like this. Night knew better than to close his legs, they’d beaten him for that before, but he covered his chest as best he could with his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut at the hands on his thighs. They squeezed them, and Night let out a quiet sob, tentacles forgotten and limp on the bed, not speaking a word in edgewise while cyan tears poured down his cheeks.

“N….m….” One of them made a noise, but Nightmare blocked it out. Just because the pain hadn’t started didn’t mean the name calling hadn’t. The villagers loved to make lewd comments about his body, as if having so many people touch and watch wasn’t already torture, the usual obscene squelching already more noise than he could handle.

“Ni-ma-!” The hands were on his shoulders now, pulling him upwards. Were they going to make him do the work again?

He didn’t dare look until he felt his legs be closed, warm arms around his waist.

“Nightmare!” Cross’s face swam into view.

“C-cross?” His hands sought Cross’s clothes instantly. 

“Breathe, try to match me.” One hand laid over his, pressed to Cross’s shifting ribs. He zeroed in on the motions, struggling to hold in the air for so long. The rhythm kept up until Night’s vision cleared. He kept following it even as he collapsed against the guardsman tiredly. Cross’s hand pulled Night’s off of him, holding it securely in his larger warm one. Night didn’t open his tired eye to speak.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you?! I send you into some kind of frenzy, and you thank me?” Night couldn’t see him but weakly shrugged.

“You didn’t know.”

“Why would you even do this? If you knew it could cause a panic attack, why offer me control, especially when I was mad at you?” Cross’s arm across his back tensed, trembling at the idea of what had almost occured. Nightmare focused on the heavy guilt to try and recover.

“I didn’t know what else to do.” Tentacles gently cocooned the two. “You could have done whatever you wanted. I wouldn’t have been able to stop you.” He opened his eye to see; Cross looked sick.

“I’m not going to have sex with you while you’re having a panic attack!”

“I suppose not. You’re not heartless, but I didn’t know how far your hate of me ran.” Night’s eye started to focus back in. The sickness passed quickly in this body, it wasn’t weak like before, but he steadied himself against Cross’s strong chest as it slowly cycled away. “If that was the only way to get you back, I’m ashamed to say I would have acquiesced. I have done it before for much less.”

“That’s so fucked up Nightmare.” Night didn’t look up at Cross’s face again to see the disappointment. The creeping horror emanating from Cross eased his headache, even if it was a surprise.

“I’m sorry.”

Cross bit his tongue. Nightmare heard the cogs turning, but didn’t speak. Sitting on Cross’s lap, wrapped in his arms, warmed his soul.

“Why are you so desperate to have me back? I wasn’t even nice to you.” Night felt his eyelids drooping against his will, but it could not be denied, not when his bones felt so comfortable. He murmured from his place on Cross’s shoulder.

“Like it makes sense to me either.” 

He sagged against Cross quietly, exhausted but warm.

-

When he woke up, he’d been bundled into his borrowed clothes, looking at an unfamiliar ceiling. He sat up with an achy back. Cross was asleep sitting on the floor beside the bed, back leaned against the wall under the window.

His eyes looked dark, face scrunched up in displeasure even in rest. Nightmare slid off the bed. He tapped a tentacle softly against Cross’s forehead.

“You should rest on your bed.”

Cross jostled awake, shocked and hesitant at Nightmare over him until he saw the outfit.

“I didn’t really deserve it.” He wiped his face, also creaking up to stand. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” Night kept his eye downcast. He wanted to change, shower, and eat something, and that was all within reach, even exhausted. “I’m going to change out of these and shed the evening’s experience. Would you like me to create a portal home for you?” Cross opened his mouth and closed it again. “What?”

“I’d like to stick around a little longer if that’s okay.” 

“If you’d like.” Nightmare didn’t speak further. His room had everything to ease his fatigued body. It’s not like Cross would fuck up the castle if left to his own devices, so he let him be.

Tossing the clothes out of sight into a hamper (Dream might still want them back), his mood improved considerably, more at home in his own sweater after the shower. It refreshed his mind and body. He checked himself over in the mirror before leaving the room to join the others for lunch.

A peek of cyan at his collarbone. Cross’s bite.

He shrugged his hoodie over it with a blush. Thinking on the evening was a double edged sword, a sense of dread from having been embarrassed in the worst way in front of someone he cared about and that said person caused it, but he did have the memory of Cross with Crescent, lovely and charming and so kind to anyone who’s not him. Opening the door to Cross leaning on the wall looking like a guilty kicked puppy dropped his mood from resigned to somber.

Walking into the dining room turned all the heads, Cross following behind and sitting in his old chair like nothing had happened. The only one to verbally engage at all was Killer.

“Been awhile Criss-Cross! Get tired of all those positive freaks?” He grinned viciously. Cross barely rose to the jab.

“Not as tired as I am of you.”

The rest was in tight silence, even Horror rushing through a little faster just to get out of the meal faster. The gang, to their credit, did vacate the room quickly. None of them asked questions or pressed the issue. But on the flip side, that left Nightmare alone with Cross quickly.

So passed three of the most awkward hours of his life. He tried to get paperwork done, but knowing Cross was sitting in the nearby study distracted him. Trying to read while he paced around on the carpet outside the door was impossible. Even a relaxing walk through the courtyard just raised his hackles; he could feel Cross’s eyes on him as he wandered. He couldn’t even be mad, Cross wasn’t worriedly tracking him, only radiating light nervousness.

The fifth walk down a hall with Cross trailing behind quietly of the day broke his patience.

“I did not want you back for you to follow me around exactly like you used to.” Nightmare turned and stared at Cross, still two steps back. “I went through this ordeal to see you as you are. Yet here you are, as you were instead.” Nightmare sighed but just looked at his slippers. “If it’s not possible, I understand, but if you’re doing it as some sort of obligation from my reaction last night, then I’d prefer you go back to him. I don’t need pity.”

“I was kinda enjoying it actually.” Cross shifted his eyes to the suddenly interesting right wall. “The quiet is nice.”

“The quiet?” There wasn’t much coming from him but embarrassment, so it felt honest.

“I mean, Dream’s great, but he’s so friendly. He’s constantly talking or being spoken to by people. All the Stars are like that.” Cross shrugged, blushing under the intense stare. “They’re all super outgoing and it’s kinda…draining…sometimes, I guess?”

“You were fairly outgoing at the bar.” His mind relived those hushed words to ‘Crescent,’ seeing none of that boldness now. This Cross looked like he wanted to combust.

“T-there’s a difference between flirting with a cute boy in a bar and hitting on a literal god!”

Nightmare quirked up an eyebrow. He took a step into Cross’s space, curling his tentacles around them both, not touching but hovering. 

“And why is that?” He fought down the amused grin. Cross was so cute like this, all flustered and nervous. He kept his hands to himself in his pockets. Bold Cross had been quite the experience, and he didn’t want to scare that part of him away, though he also didn’t want to coerce Cross into returning. “You could always pretend I’m Crescent again if it helps.”

“No!” Cross blurted it out. His eyes grew to the size of saucers, waving his hands frantically in front of his bright purple face. “I mean, I don’t mind Crescent, but it’s better that it’s actually you.” That flush was spreading to his whole skull. “I mean they’re both you, so they’re both good, but the real you is best, so you should be the real you, you know?” He spoke so fast, fidgeting, wild and shaking. He silenced instantly under the touch of Night’s hand on his face. 

“Cross.” Cross’s eyes searched his nervously, taking an obvious detour to his mouth, licking his teeth at the thought. Night kept his stare even.

“This was much easier when you were just a cute face and I was some handsome royal guard.”

“Handsome?” Night chuckled at Cross’s brows furrowing.

“You know what I mean. You’re the one who kept staring at me.”

“I did.” Cross’s anxiety spiked, apprehensive about something Night couldn’t discern, until he felt teeth on his own a second later.

Cross had cupped his cheek to move him enough to get his mouth open. Nightmare didn’t fight the tongue, welcoming it happily with probing strokes, leaning into the taller’s bent frame. Kissing him made his soul flutter. He hummed when they broke apart, eye still closed.

“I’m sorry. I know I messed up before and I don’t really have the right to ask for this, but could you trust me one more time?” Cross implored him with just his voice. “Be mine for one more evening.” Night’s face betrayed the flash of a grimace, remembering the terror with an all too fresh recap of the previous night. Cross certainly didn’t have the right to ask for another chance after throwing it in his face so callously before. However, he had forgiven that, almost immediately, because Cross couldn’t have known what his actions would do, not understanding the weight of the trust he’d been handed until it dropped out of his hands. Even if it was freshly broken, Night took a deep breath.

“ONE more time.” Nightmare fought the instant panic at putting himself at risk again. Cross had already betrayed him twice, and putting faith in that fed into the anxious voices in his head. The soft kiss leached out some of the tension.

“Thank you.”

Night let himself be picked up and carried, Cross walking confidently down the hall. He strode directly past his own room, turning down two different hallways, heading towards Nightmare’s room. Cross let them inside and turned to lock the door before setting Nightmare down on his own bed. He kissed him again, soft slow swipes into and across Night’s mouth.

“I’m still going to tell you what to do, but if you get even slightly uncomfortable, tell me no.” Cross’s hands drew lines up and down his tentacles. He gripped them at the base, tracing the sensitive connection to his back. Night arched into the touch.

“Ahhhhh.” Cross’s mouth trailed to his neck, gently kissing over the marks from last night.

“Tell me what I said. I need to know you’ll tell me to stop.” He scraped his fangs over his collarbone.

“I’ll tell you to stop if I get uncomfortable.” Part of him knew that wouldn’t be wholly true. He’d probably let it go too far again, his pride and humiliation both stomping on his desire to enjoy. It eased Cross’s mind though.

“Thank you.”

Cross crawled over him on the bed. He leaned down to touch their chests together, pinning him with nothing but desire in his soul.

“I didn’t take care of you last time.” He kissed all over his face before moving back to his neck. His breath felt warm on his bones, making Night’s body shiver. “I won’t make the same mistake again. Please let me remove the hoodie.” Night worked his arms out of it, collar tingling with Cross’s constant proximity, ending in a moan when he sucked on last night’s sensitive bites. The hoodie slid away without a thought.

“I’m going to make a few more of these.” He whispered to the wet bone, shimmering cyan against the black. He lined up his teeth for a fresh spot. “Remember, say no if you need me to stop.” Still, he waited until Night’s quick nod.

“MMMmm.” Nightmare bit the sound back, entirely too loud. Cross released it. He licked at the bite, groaning at the little tremors running through Night.

“Let me hear you. I want to know that I’m making you feel good…that I’m not hurting you again.” Cross nipped at the area again. Night whined.

“Crosssss.” That got him an instant possessive kiss.

“God, please, saying my name like that is…” Nightmare could feel the curve of Cross’s dick through their many layers pressed against his femur. “I’m going to draw that out of you again.” He bit the other side of Night’s neck with precision. He dragged his tongue over the raised bone, humming into the contact of Night’s hands into the back of his jacket. He sucked on the fresh bite while tracing his fingers over the other shoulder to force Night’s voice.

“Cross!” The guardsman bucked up into his pelvis, brushing his cock right where Night’s folds had manifested purely by reaction.

Night almost startled out of his arousal, but having his pants on helped coax him out of it. He was probably wet enough for it to not be terribly painful, but it brought back some fresh memories. Cross forced himself to hold still.

“Nothing until you’re thoroughly prepared, I promise.” He tossed his jacket off to the side, his shirt following afterwards. With his own ribs bare and on display, he grabbed the bottom of Night’s sweater, lifting slowly so Night could refuse at any time, hoping to make them match. It slid off with a little finagling around the shoulders.

Cross didn’t even get to ask. Night turned away with cyan cheeks, summoning his chest. He jolted when Cross rubbed his face on them.

“So soft and pretty.” He’d cupped them on either side to keep them up around where his face rested, pressed right between the breasts. Night whimpered with the soft kneading. He blushed down his whole body at Cross’s contented cuddling, not used to having much attention paid to his breasts at all.

Nightmare stroked over the back of Cross’s skull, embarrassed but warm. He avoided the wide-eyed look from Cross up from his chest.

“I’m glad.” Cross’s eyes softened, smiling into kisses peppering over his boobs. “And I do appreciate them.” His hums made Night’s chest tingle while the hands kept working him up, going until Night’s hips had started to move around of their own accord.

“I’m going to take off your pants.” He planted one more kiss on each nipple, sliding down to catch the waistbands. He paused for the refusal.

“I’ll tell you to stop when I get uncomfortable.” Nightmare repeated. “Sir.” He added. How many of the rules carried over, he didn’t know. Cross paused mid-pull to light up purple.

“You can stick to Cross.” He finished removing the clothes, keeping his own lower half covered until it was necessary. Cross ran his fingers over his slicked folds. “I was just trying to get back at you for the whole authority thing.” He settled his face low, massaging his thighs, while he summoned his tongue. “I’m sorry…Boss.”

“Hnnnngh Cross!” Night almost held back the sound, but he was trying to obey.

Cross busied himself with tending to the wet pussy he’d dove tongue first into. Night could feel it pushing deep into him, drinking in all the heady juices, indulging in the cyan arousal with abandon. Night cried out when Cross got his fingers into the mix to work his clit.

“I’ll take care of you.” He moaned Cross’s name quietly. He struggled to keep his hips in check, Cross hadn’t been holding him down, concerned about Night’s responses more than ease of access. 

When Cross pulled back, his mouth dripped with cyan. 

Night’s pupil dilated when it was licked clean.

“I have a question.” Cross pushed two fingers in easily, as wet as he was. Night panted at him, staring at his face to show he was listening. He worked them in and out while speaking. “Are you enjoying this…Boss?” Night clenched around the fingers at the words. He whined when Cross increased to three, swallowing hard at the small smirk on Cross’s face, who looked more familiar after a day of being shy.

“That’s very interesting.” His fingers flexed with each push, working Night open enough to take Cross without any pain. He’d been concerned about lack of lubrication, but that fell by the wayside with his new discovery, other hand going back up to tease Night’s nipples while he writhed.

“I think you’re prepared Boss.” He kissed him confidently. “I’m gunna make you feel good.” Cross dropped his pants and moved Night further back onto the bed. He kept crawling forward, taking the smaller with him until Night’s head rested against a pillow, both very naked with Night under him. Parts of old anxiety built up, under a body, with an entrance, feeling very exposed, but focusing on the differences was carrying him through.

Cross pulled Night’s legs up around his waist, positioning for the correct angle. His larger hands pinned down Night’s arms. 

“Put your trust in me Boss.” Cross leaned down to whisper in his ear. His hands slid up to intertwine with Night’s, holding them while keeping them pinned. “You said you’d be mine. I won’t disappoint you.”

Night teared up at Cross pushing into him. He felt overwhelmed. He’d never been able to enjoy being dominated, for obvious reasons, but all the worst parts had been shifted. Cross had lavished him with attention, spoke like Night still held all the power, and even this pin felt comfortable, Cross gripping his hands back when Night squeezed with the sensations. He didn’t fight Cross’s tongue in his mouth as he paused, fully hilted.

“Cross…” Night clenched around him. Cross groaned.

“Yeah Boss?” He looked out of breath, sweat beading up around his forehead. Night moaned at the involuntary twitch in Cross’s hips.

“Please.” He tightened his knees around Cross’s waist. The first thrust, he pulled almost all the way out, pushing back in with a snap. The entire range of empty to full rocked Night’s whole body. 

“AHH!” 

“Fuck Nightmare…” Cross groaned. “You okay Boss?” Night whined in his grasp, leaning up to kiss Cross desperately from the bed. Cross pressed back until they were against the bed again. He kept him distracted with his mouth while he thrusted again, eating up the sounds that Night gasped out.

Night’s head spun, body getting overwhelmed with being fucked, that _Cross_ was fucking him, that he’d given up control to _Cross_. The smooth stretch and rhythmic pounding built pleasure at his core. He’d never been able to enjoy it before now, only just lost enough to keep his thoughts on the taste of Cross and the way he’d been driving him crazy. With each thrust, his legs fell a little farther apart, pulling Cross deeper into him. He broke their kiss apart when he hit the right spot with a scream.

Cross hadn’t been silent, but he’d been quieter than expected. Somewhere between his own cries of wrecked passion, his curiosity had been piqued. His eye hazily looked up to see Cross mouthing words with his eyes closed. Translating the empty syllables half out of his mind from the building orgasm wasn’t exactly ideal, but once he caught the first full word, the rest translated in his head as if they’d been spoken.

_So tight, fuck, you feel so fucking good, Nightmare, look so good like this, so good for me, I can’t wait to make you scream._

And then, suddenly out loud, “I’m so close Boss.”

The realization pushed him right to the edge. The rising tide had crashed, barreling towards a finish that Night couldn’t stop, only able to let out a wrecked whisper before the screaming peak.

“Then go ahead.”

His back arched right off the sheets, squeezing down with his release, soaked and overwhelmed at Cross’s furious pace that kept ratcheting until it went irregular. Then an overly full feeling he’d never experienced hit him.

Cross sucked in so much air after he collapsed. Nightmare’s tentacles cradled them together.

“I shoulda asked before-” Night cut him off with a soft press of teeth.

“It’s okay.” He could feel the purple magic leaking out of him, but it actually grounded him more in the moment. “It was better this way.”

“Hey, I should be comforting YOU. Are you alright?” Cross’s hands trailed over his skeleton, gentle and reassuring. “I absolutely didn’t want a repeat of last time. I spent all day trying to think about it.”

“You could’ve just asked. It probably would’ve been easier for you.”

“But not for you. Reliving it wasn’t what I-” He looked away. With a small tug, he pulled Nightmare into his arms. “Making you explain it wouldn’t be fair after last night. If you wanna talk about it sometime, I’ll listen, but asking for that just to have sex with you is low.” He sighed. Night could feel his arms rattle from how tightly they were holding him. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“I already said I forgave you.” But Cross pulled him up to look him in the eyes.

“No, I mean for everything. For last night, for misjudging you, for betraying your trust twice.” His mismatched eyes bore into Night’s surprised one. “I wasn’t any better than the assholes who took advantage of you. I thought you were terrible from your name and nature alone, even after you saved all of us, even after you agreed to a truce.”

“I am used to it. Though I’m surprised you’ve changed your mind so quickly.” Night nuzzled into his shoulder with a soft purr. The sound made Cross blush, smiling at his small lover. 

“I was being kinda stubborn. Dream kept telling me I was overreacting, but I just couldn’t see it. You, the guardian of negativity, being good?” He shrugged a little, embarrassed. “Seems pretty dumb now.”

“Then I also apologize. I didn’t mean to make the teasing feel so isolating. I am not as omnipotent as I seem; I misjudged many things.” Nightmare clanked his cheek. “Now that the past is the past, what does the future hold?” For that, Cross sat up, clamoring off the bed before turning back to scoop up Night again. For his efforts, he got a cute squeak.

“Some stress-free time.” 

He didn’t know what could be non-stressful about naked traveling until Cross took them to Night’s private bathroom and started up the water of the bath. He was placed on a warm towel instead of the cold porcelain.

“An excuse to use my private bathroom? I must say, it’s better than Killer’s.” 

“What excuse did he use?” The water heated up quickly with the magic faucet, filing the tub steadily. 

“Claimed he sleep walked in. He’d set up with multiple soaps and a bathrobe.” Night chuckled while Cross poured in some bubbles. “He didn’t appreciate waking up in a cold bathtub fully clothed the next evening.”

“Well, you can’t drop me in tomorrow night, or I’ll pull you in with me.” Cross stuck out his tongue, not catching the threat until Night stroked a tentacle under his chin.

“And if I wanted to be pulled in, should I proceed?” The flush lit his cheeks up. Cross’s wide eyed stare made Night smile. He slid into the warm tub with a sigh. His ecto poofed under the warm water, his pleasantly aching bones enjoying the heat. He felt the water slosh at Cross climbing in shortly after him.

“I mean, at least save my jacket.” He sidled up to him, washcloth in hand. “Now just relax. The bubbles have lavender and stuff inside it.”

Night raised a brow at him, but acquiesced easily, leaving his body loose and easy to move. His internal panic was low here, even if he was naked. It’s not like Cross could drown him.

The steamy water and bubbles did pull his mind back to normal. The even scrubbing of Cross’s washcloth over each bone individually lulled him into a tranquil calm. Hands on him normally would set off bells from the lowered guard, especially with someone so close, but the evening had apparently repaired a lot of his broken trust in Cross because he couldn’t muster even tiny amounts of ill intent to scare him off. Cross had started with his arms, shoulders to hands, tending to each hand carefully, laying a kiss on each one as he finished. He’d moved to the legs. It’d been similar, femur down to the toes. 

He’d been shifted afterwards, head still full of feel good fuzzies, Cross settling behind him to get the back of his ribcage and his spine.

“I’m going for the collarbone. It might sting a little.”

The bite of pain did him some good. The pinch of worry from Cross hit like a sip of fine wine. He’d begun to purr quietly. 

“These are so slippery.” Cross had started the tentacles, one at a time, from the base to the tips, soft and silky to the touch. Night’s cyan cheeks spoke for him; the idea of Cross attending directly to his corrupted form hit a piece of his soul he didn’t wish to speak on. Each tendril shivered with happiness, patiently waiting until the final one was cleaned before seeking out Cross to touch him in turn. Nightmare turned around to face him.

“Shouldn’t I clean you?” His freshly cleaned tentacles eagerly soaped themselves up and probed Cross’s ribs. A few cracks caught his eye, but he didn’t linger on them. Cross almost spoke up to stop him, but the scent had gotten to him too, the warmth light and refreshing on his stressed body.

“Only a little. I gotta finish you.”

“I’ll do the arms first.” When his tentacles got them clean, he pulled the hands up to his face. He kissed them as Cross had done his. His blush lit a duplicate on Cross’s equally shy face. He kissed him gently before laying his fingers against Night’s ribs.

He cleaned each with delicate attention. He wasn’t trying to escalate this into a sexual encounter, it’d ruin the point of this. Instead, he focused on even, slow caresses across each, over and under, soft washcloth gliding in and out until Night wasn’t sure he was corrupted anymore.

Cross’s hand hesitated over his pelvis. Night guided him to rest against it.

“At the same time.” Night put his hands on Cross’s hips to follow his lead.

Whatever motion Cross did, Nightmare replicated, softly working into the crevices without any focused intent but to make clean. The direct feedback from his actions helped keep Cross on track. The strangely intimate ritual made his eye light brighten, soft and sensual and connected on a level that ascended over the physical.

Once they’d gotten past the last of it, the washcloths were finally put aside.

Both let out satisfied sighs, cleaning complete and resting against each other, slumped over and cozy in the peaceful evening. But the bath water only got colder as they relaxed; it couldn’t last forever.

They’d toweled off in content silence, and dressed in a similar quiet, until they both stood in the center of Night’s bedroom, fully clothed and holding hands.

“Thank you.” It was out of Nightmare’s mouth before he could stop it. Even though his corrupted tentacles wriggled happily behind him, he hadn’t felt more purified in ages. The bath had washed away the impurities as cleanly as Cross had sated him without triggering his anxieties.

“Anytime.” His thumbs ran over Night’s hesitantly. “If you’ll let me.”

“NIGHTMARE! HORROR ATE ALL THE CHOCOLATE!” The voice echoed from down the hall, the sound of thumping sneakers rapidly approaching. Night rolled his eye before letting go to turn and face the door. To his surprise, Killer AND Dust poked their heads in.

“And this is my problem how?” 

“You’re the boss! You gotta save us from dying of starvation.” Nightmare couldn’t look less impressed.

“A lack of chocolate does not translate to starvation.” Dust’s shifty gaze pulled his attention. “What is it Dust?”

“…Please.” A pause. “I wanted some for s’mores.” Said with a straight face. Well, that was his crew alright. He’d give them hell for it later (or maybe not at all, his tentacles still sat unagitated against his back).

“Fine. Now go.”

Off they went, down the hall and off towards some other mess they’d leave. When he turned back to Cross, he’d returned to himself, though the deep clean still thrummed through his bones. Cross bowed with a small smile.

“I guess you got stuff to attend to. I should probably go tell Dream I’m not dead.” He scratched the back of his head. “I didn’t really warn him I’d be gone so long.”

“I’ll make you a portal home.” Night pulled it open with a flick of his hand, Cross nodding with a bittersweet smile. He readied to step through until Night’s hand dropped on his shoulder.

“Your room is still yours.” Then softly whispered. “As am I.”

“Then I guess this isn’t really a portal home, is it?” They kept staring straight ahead, but he could feel the sunshine off Cross’s soul. He felt the touch of a hand against his own.

“See you soon…Boss.”


End file.
